


we should sit in silence while we think of what to say

by InkCaviness



Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Sylvix Week 2020 (Fire Emblem), and what's inbetween, but not that much I think, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26638036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkCaviness/pseuds/InkCaviness
Summary: The party buzzes on around them, people hurrying in and out of the door and the music just gets worse. There’s an ache deep in his chest and he doesn’t quite know why he does it but the next moment he’s leaning down and forward and kissing Felix.5 times they apologize(+1 time neither of them does)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Sylvix Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935136
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	we should sit in silence while we think of what to say

**Author's Note:**

> day 4 of sylvix week, prompts: Apologies/Making-Up (and kind of Warmth?)
> 
> title from [typical story](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3eOegwysPLs) by hobo johnson

* * *

1.

They’re at a party. It’s some shitty college party, and Sylvain would be complaining about the bad music if he could still distinguish between noises but he feels like he’s wading through water and everything blurs together. The cool autumn air hits him like, well, air honestly, when he steps out onto the balcony. It’s cramped, too tiny for the people desperate for a smoke break or just to escape the noise and heat for a second. Sylvain sighs in relief and watches his breath come out as a cloud.

“Escaping?”

When he turns towards the voice he finds Felix, leaning against the wall, a half empty beer bottle in hand. Sylvain laughs a little and runs a hand through his hair. Or at least he thinks he does but maybe he just caresses his own neck instead.

“Yeaaah, getting pretty loud in there.”

He takes the place on Felix’s right and takes a swig from the bottle when offered.

“So,” he starts without knowing what he wanted to talk about. The word hangs in the air between them.

“So,” Felix mirrors him. “Not found a hookup yet?”

Sylvain laughs again and if it sounds a bit hollow he hopes that’s only to his own ears. “Nah. Too many friends here.”

Felix hums.

They stand in silence.

“So,” Sylvain tries again and turns towards Felix. He just ends up leaning against the wall with his side now, face squished uncomfortably against concrete. “What about you?”

He gets a raised eyebrow in response. Felix doesn’t have to look up much with the way Sylvain is slumped over. Somehow he’s holding his posture much better even though Sylvain knows he’s had a good bit more than just that beer, but his eyes look a bit glassy. “What about me?”

“Are you looking for a hookup?” He knows his grin is sleazy but Felix just rolls his eyes.

The party buzzes on around them, people hurrying in and out of the door and the music just gets worse. There’s an ache deep in his chest and he doesn’t quite know why he does it but the next moment he’s leaning down and forward and kissing Felix.

Felix doesn’t reciprocate, just stays still and unmoving against Sylvain’s lips.

“Fuck,” Sylvain pants out and pulls back. He wishes the wall would just open up and swallow him whole. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking-“

And then there’s a pair of hands in his hair, pulling him back down. Felix stares intently at him through amber eyes.

“I’m _not_ just one of your hookups,” he hisses out and then crashes their lips back together.

* * *

2.

“Fuck, I am _so_ sorry,” Sylvain pants out as he falls into the seat across from Felix. The other just raises an eyebrow at him, gaze unimpressed.

The restaurant isn’t anything particularly fancy but it’s a Saturday night and they still had to make reservations. They’ve been here before, with friends, and usually for lunch instead of dinner and this is supposed to be _special_. Sylvain knows he’s a fuck up, he’s notorious for it, and especially when it comes to dates. But he doesn’t want to fuck this up. He wants to do everything _right_ for once. So why did the universe dcide to sabotage him just when’s trying to be decent for once.

“Look I know what you’re thinking but I was on time, I was _so_ on time I would’ve been half an hour early! But the car wouldn’t start and then the stupid bus was late and, _urgh_ , there was this stupid traffic jam and-“

“Breathes,” Felix reminds him and leans back in the chair, “I get it. Apology accepted.”

Sylvain whines. That’s too easy. Felix shouldn’t make it this easy for him.

“At least let me pay,” he insists. “I know you don’t like that kind of stupid chivalry or whatever but at least let me pay tonight. I’m really trying here.”

He’s using the puppy dog easy. He’s not sure they actually work on Felix but he has to at least try his chances. That’s the exact moment the waiter arrives, menus in hand.

Felix stares at Sylvain for half a second, then rolls his eyes and look at the waiter.

“Fine then. I’ll have whatever the most expensive steak is.”

* * *

3.

Felix wakes bleary eyed to the ring of the doorbell. For fuck’s sake, it’s got to be the middle of the night he thinks. It’s almost noon, his alarm clock shows him instead, and he swings his legs out of bed with a curse. He just so manages to pull on some real pants before stumbling to the door.

When he pulls it open he finds Sylvain, smiling brightly, holding an oversized flower bouquet and a bag of groceries. Felix blinks up at him in confusion.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Sylvain chirps and presses a quick kiss to Felix’s before squeezing past him into the apartment. Felix follows him, still feeling groggy, and watches as Sylvain starts unpacking groceries in his kitchen. Still slightly confused he sits down at his little kitchen table while his boyfriend starts making what looks to be scrambled eggs.

“So I thought I’d make you breakfast,” he explains from over at the stove with his back towards Felix, “And then we could go to that park you read that article about last week, just do a little hike. And to really celebrate I booked us a table at _Coperta_ tonight!”

The sounds of frying oil fill his kitchen and Sylvain hums a little tune under his breath.

“What are we celebrating?”

Felix thinks he can see Sylvain’s shoulders tense up for a moment but he relaxes them again just as quickly and turns around with a flourish of the spatula.

“Our anniversary of course!” His grin is still broad but it doesn’t light his eyes up quite as much as before.

Fuck, Felix thinks.

“Fuck,” he says out loud.

He can see that way Sylvain clenches his teeth but doesn’t let him smile falter, at least not much.

“It’s okay,” Sylvain says brightly before Felix even has a chance to explain.

It makes something in his stomach churn, knowing that Sylvain is disappointed but won’t show it. He almost wishes he would just get mad about it.

“It’s not okay,” Felix says instead and gets up to walk over to the stove. Gently he sets his hands on Sylvain’s hips and tries to meet his eyes. He can’t quite managed it and stares at a spot a little to the left instead. “I shouldn’t have forgotten. I’m sorry.”

Sylvain laughs, a breathless little sound. “It’s fine. It’s just sentimental bullshit, I know you don’t do that stuff.”

Felix frowns at that. “But I want to do it.” He takes a deep breath. “I want to try. I want to try harder. At least let me treat you to dinner.” He finally glances at Sylvain properly and quirks his head to the side a little. “For old times sake?”

Sylvain gently bumps their foreheads together. “Okay. For old times sake.”

* * *

4.

“For the Goddess’ sake how fucking hard can it be to do the dishes!”

He didn’t mean to yell, really, but it’s the third time he’s come home this week to the kitchen in disarray and Felix doing some stupid, senseless workout in front of the TV instead of just _cleaning up his mess for once_. Felix pauses in his crunches and looks up at him, face caught somewhere between confusion and annoyance.

“I’m gonna do it when I’m done here,” he grunts and goes back to his crunches.

Sylvain can feel something in his brain close to snapping, like a rubber band drawn taut. He doesn’t want to explode, he’s really trying to push it down but he can suddenly feel _too much_ well up in his chest and he thinks he might either burst out crying or put his fist through the wall. He shouldn’t try to do the latter, their building is pretty solid. He hates that that’s his thought, that he would break his knuckles and not that he shouldn’t blow up at Felix like that.

But it’s such a simple request, he just wants him to clean his dishes and put his dirty clothes in the hamper while he’s at it and-

“We live here together,” he snaps out and can’t resist hitting his hand against the door frame. “We fucking live here together so why can’t you do your share!”

Felix looks truly perplexed at that and, finally, lowly gets up.

“Hey,” he says, carefully, as he walks towards Sylvain. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…why didn’t you say something earlier?”

Sylvain resists the urge to slaps his hands over his own face and scream.

“I’ve told you before,” he grits out instead, “I’ve told you from the beginning I can’t stand this mess.”

It’s not that much of a mess. It’s not that much of a mess and he knows it but he can’t stand coming home to dishes piled up on the kitchen counter and a heap of old clothes in the bathroom and Felix’s socks strewn _everywhere_ and-

“I’ve had a really long day,” he tries to explain, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’ve had a really long day working and I can’t. I can’t stand coming home and cleaning up after you while you do fucking _nothing_ all the time.”

He shouldn’t have said that. He knows he shouldn’t have said that the moment it leaves his mouth.

Felix’s expression darkens immediately and he crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do the fucking dishes but that’s not fair of you.” There’s real hurt in Felix’s voice and Sylvain wishes he could make it better but some part of him is satisfied that at least he’s not the only one on the verge boiling over now. “You know I work too. It’s not just you, I’m not just sitting around here all the time too.”

He hates being angry. He hates being angry and he hates that he knows he has to feel the emotion anyways or else it’s all just going to build up and bubble over some day but he still _hates_ it. Sylvain feels his shoulders deflate the second he’s finished that thought.

“I know,” he says. “I just you do. I’m just…frustrated.”

Felix sighs. “I’ll…I’ll try to do better.”

“Sorry for yelling.” Sylvain tries for a smile and opens his arms to invite Felix in for a hug.

-

When he comes home the next week there are still dishes piling high in the sink.

* * *

5.

Sylvain doesn’t answer his phone. The messages go through but there’s no reply, hasn’t been in hours. Felix feels a bit foolish. He knows there are papers due and exams coming up, even though he feels removed from that whole world. He tried to get through college for a solid year before he found the job at the gym. He hasn’t looked back since but somehow Sylvain stuck to it.

But Sylvain hasn’t answered his phone in hours and it was supposed to be their date night. It’s always their date night, even though maybe they’ve been neglecting it a bit lately. They didn’t have any real plans for the night but. Well. Maybe Felix had just been looking forward to it.

He waits up on the couch until midnight before deciding to head to bed. It feels cold. Sylvain is usually a living furnace next to him, even in the summer, and Felix doesn’t really like the heat but he thinks he might miss it now. He’s complained about it before, about Sylvain heating up the bed like sauna but now he can’t help long for it, for a human body next to his. Maybe he just longs for the idea of it.

Sylvain crawls into bed next to him an hour later, presses a kiss against his temple and whispers “Sorry it got so late, I found a really good source though.”

Felix knows Sylvain knows he’s awake. Felix knows Sylvain wants him to ask what he found but he knows he wouldn’t understand anyways.

“Goodnight,” he mutters and turns away.

-

The bed is too warm.

* * *

(+1)

They’re at a party. Maybe they’ve all mellowed out over the years or maybe this is just a particularly boring party but they’ve been sitting on a bench outside alone for almost an hour now. There was someone with them, Sylvain remembers, some colleague of the host, but they’d gone inside to the buffet and not returned. Well, understandable, no one wants to third wheel a couple they don’t even know. Especially not when neither of them is in a talkative mood.

Sylvain’s been nursing a glass of some sort of supposedly sophisticated fruit drink for way too long. It’s not strong enough for him to even feel a buzz and he’s not sure if he wishes it did or if it’s better like this.

With a sigh he leans back and stares up into the sky. It’s dark, almost midnight if he had to guess, but they’re in the city and he can just barely make out a handful of stars. Faint music is drifting out from the house, something slow and instrumental, and Sylvain thinks it would be appropriate for his breath to come out as a cloud but it’s the middle of August and he’s given up smoking a long time ago. He tries to wrangle the words in his head into something coherent, but Felix beats him to it.

“This isn’t working out, is it?”

He wants to dispute it, on instinct, say they can get through whatever’s wrong, but that’s exactly it, isn’t it. It’s not that there’s anything wrong in particular, it’s just not right anymore.

“Yeah,” he breathes out into the night.

Felix slumps against his side and the touch makes something clench in his stomach. It’s not uncomfortable but it’s the knowledge that they’re facing what’s been inevitable for a while now.

“We’ve just become weird roommates, haven’t we?”

It startles a laugh out of Sylvain and he wants to burry his face in his hands.

“I know right,” he says instead, “We don’t even have our own rooms!”

Felix snorts. “Like shitty college dorms. But they didn’t even give us two beds.”

They fall back into silence at that, both staring up at the stars. Or maybe only Sylvain is staring up at the stars, maybe Felix is looking at him instead. He doesn’t want to check.

“So, what now?” He pauses for a moment and thinks about downing the rest of his stupid over-sugared drink but when he raises it to it’s lips he realizes it’s far too disgustingly warm by now. “Is our childhood death pact just platonic now?”

“God, that’s fucking morbid,” Felix says without hesitation.

Sylvain hums. “We were morbid kids.”

“Probably.”

Silence, again.

“We’ll figure it out.”

They go home together again. They take turns getting ready in the bathroom and sleep with their backs turned to each other, the way they have been for a while now.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, comments are greatly appreciated!  
> you can also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/InkCaviness) and retweet this [here](https://twitter.com/InkCaviness/status/1309283339598258181?s=19)


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